Separated: 5SOS BSM

68. You Get A Detention - Luke

As your peers began to file in even Y/BFF/N gave you a wide girth. Thankfully she understood that you needed a little bit of time and space to simmer down. The substitute teacher apparently didn't pick up on those vibes as he walked over and sat right down on the top of your desk as he began to take attendance.

You didn't want an elderly man invading your personal space, but you didn't say anything at first. You also didn't need to get in trouble.

"Okay kids, I'll read off your name and you say 'here', if you're here," he put on some reading glasses and squinted down at the page.

Maybe that was his problem, he was going blind. You didn't know that of course, but you did know that he was taking an awful long time to read the first name on the list, an easy one too. You had never before heard someone at all butcher the name, 'Joshua Adams', it was pretty common and easy to recognize. Or at least sound out.

Yet somehow he managed to mess it up, "joe-ah-wa," he paused and moved the paper closet to his face, "Abe-ams?"

"Here," Josh, like the trooper he was, raised his hand.

"Thank you," he sub nodded and Josh put his hand down. Well one down twenty-nine to go. If one kid took two minutes that was all you were going to be doing this hour.

That actually pressed your buttons. Not because he took so long per kid and was sucking up all of your class time, you didn't care about that. You were mad because his butt was like two feet away from your face and that made you uncomfortable.

Normally you'd politely ask to change seats, or maybe help him read the names. But as previously established you weren't feeling the niceness that day. You managed to hold your tongue until a foul odor permeated the air right next to your face. You nearly gagged it was so disgusting.

"Excuse me," he said in his feeble old man voice.

"Oh no, I'm not sitting here," you got up rudely and took your stuff with you.

The class shifted uncomfortably with your rudeness to the poor old man.

"I'm sorry young lady, why don't you take a seat in the back?" He offered you with a denturey smile.

"No. I can't do this class anymore. I can't stand to sit there and be forced to listen to you fail at trying to read. I can't sit there in that stench. I won't. And nobody here, especially you, can make me," you sneered.

The teacher looked taken aback and the entire class drew in a breath at how mean you had just been. The problem was that you didn't really care, and you weren't about to wait for him to say anything. So you swung your backpack around on your back and marched yourself out of the room.

Once you had slammed the door shut and made it into the hallway you realized what you had just done. Yell at a substitute teacher and storm out of class. Oh God, you were going to be in huge trouble, you just verbally abused an old man.

You were a fugitive. There was no doubt that by now the office had been called. Security would be dispatched to come and get you. You knew that you'd be taken to the assistant principals office where your fate would be decided. You really had three options, go and turn yourself in, hide, or leave the building.

You knew you didn't have much time to decide as heavy footsteps started to head your way. They sounded rushed, if you wanted to be out of sight before security turned the corner you'd have to move right away.